The Heart of the Desert

by Honoré Morrow

  CHAPTER IX

  TOUCH AND GO

  The John DeWitt who helped break camp after finding Rhoda's scarf was adifferent man from the half-crazed person of the three days previous.He had begun to hope. Somehow that white scarf with Rhoda's perfumeclinging to it was a living thing to him, a living, pulsing promisethat Rhoda was helping him to find her. Now, while Jack and Billy werefeverishly eager, he was cool and clear-headed, leaving the leadershipto Billy still, yet doing more than his share of the work in preparingfor the hard night ahead of them. The horses were well watered, theirown canteens were filled and saturated and food so prepared that itcould be eaten from the saddle.

  "For," said Porter, "when we do hit the little girl's trail, starvationor thirst or high hell ain't goin' to stop us!"

  It was mid-afternoon when they started down the mountainside. Therewas no trail and going was painful but the men moved with the care ofdesperation. Once in the canon they moved slowly along the wall andsome two miles from where the scarf had been found, they discovered afault where climbing was possible. It was nearing sundown when theyreached a wide ledge where the way was easy. Porter led the way backover this to the spot below which fluttered a white paper to mark theplace where the scarf had been found. The ledge deepened here to makeroom for a tiny, bubbling spring. Giant boulders were scattered acrossthe rocky floor.

  The three men dismounted. The ledge gave no trace of human occupancyand yet Porter and Jack nodded at each other.

  "Here was his camp, all right. Water, and no one could come within amile of him without his being seen."

  "He's still covering his traces carefully," said Jack.

  "Not so very," answered Porter. "He's banking a whole lot on ourstupidity, but Miss Tuttle beat him to it with her scarf."

  The three men treated the ledge to a microscopic examination but theyfound no trace of previous occupation until Billy knelt and put hisnose against a black outcropping of stone in the wall. Then he gave asatisfied grunt.

  "Come here, Jack, and take a sniff."

  Jack knelt obediently and cried excitedly:

  "It smells of smoke, by Jove! Don't it, John, old scout!"

  "They knew smoke wouldn't show against a black outcrop, but they didn'tbank on my nose!" said Billy complacently. "Come ahead, boys."

  A short distance from the spring they found a trail which led back upthe mountain, and as dusk came on they followed its dizzy turns untildarkness forced them to halt and wait until the moon rose. By itslight they moved up into a pinon forest.

  "Let's wait here until daylight," suggested Jack. "It's a good placefor a camp."

  "No, it's too near the ledge," objected Billy. "Of course we areworking on faith mostly. I'm no Sherlock Holmes. We'll keep to thebackbone of this range for a while. It's the wildest spot in NewMexico. Kut-le will avoid the railroad over by the next range."

  So Billy led his little band steadfastly southward. At dawn they met aMexican shepherd herding his sheep in a grassy canon. Jack Newmancalled to him eagerly and the Mexican as eagerly answered. A visitorwas worth a month's pay to the lonely fellow. The red of dawn waspainting the fleecy backs of his charges as the tired Americans rodeinto his little camp.

  "Seen anything of an Injun running away with a white girl?" asked Billywithout preliminaries.

  The Mexican's jaw dropped.

  "_Sacra Maria_!" he gasped. "Not I! Who is she?"

  "Listen!" broke in Jack. "You be on the watch. An educated Indian hasstolen a young lady who was visiting my wife. I own the Newman ranch.That Indian Cartwell it was, three days ago."

  John DeWitt interrupted.

  "If you can catch that Indian, if you can give us a clue to him, youneedn't herd sheep any more. Lord, man, speak up! Don't stand therelike a chump!"

  "But, senors!" stammered the poor fellow to whom this sudden torrent ofconversation was as overwhelming as a cloudburst. "But I have notseen--"

  Billy Porter spoke again.

  "Hold up, boys! We are scaring the poor devil to death. Friendpastor," he said, "we'll have breakfast here with you, if you don'tobject, and tell you our troubles."

  The shepherd glowed with hospitality.

  "Yonder is good water and I have tortillas and frijoles."

  Unshaven and dirty, gaunt from lack of sleep, the three men dismountedwearily and gladly turned their coffee and bacon over to the herder towhom the mere odor of either was worth any amount of service. As theyate, Jack and Billy quizzed the Mexican as to the topography of thesurrounding country. The little herder was a canny chap.

  "He will not try to cover his trail carefully now," he said, swallowinghuge slabs of bacon. "He has a good start. You will have to fool him.He sleeps by day and travels by night, you will see. You are workingtoo hard and your horses will be dead. You should have slept lastnight. Now you will lose today because you must rest your horses."

  Porter looked at his two companions. Jack was doing fairly well, butthe calm that DeWitt had found with Rhoda's scarf had deserted him. Hewas eating scarcely anything and stared impatiently at the fire,waiting for the start.

  "I'm a blamed double-action jackass, with a peanut for a mind!"exclaimed Porter. "Taking on myself to lead this hunt when I don't_sabe_ frijoles! We take a sleep now."

  DeWitt jumped to his feet, expostulating, but Jack and Billy laid ahand on either of his shoulders and forced him to lie down on hisblanket. There nature claimed her own and in a short time the poorfellow was in the slumber of exhaustion.

  "Poor old chap!" said Jack as he spread his own blanket. "I can't helpthinking all the time 'What if it were Katherine!' Dear old Rhoda!Why, Billy, we used to play together as kids! She's slapped my face,many a time!"

  "Probably you deserved it!" answered Billy in an uncertain voice. "Bythe limping piper! I'm glad I ain't her financier. I'm most crazy, asit is!"

  The sheep herder woke the sleepers at noon. After a bath at thespring, and dinner, the trio felt as if reborn. They left the herderwith minute directions as to what he was to do in case he heard ofRhoda. Then they rode out of the canon into the burning desert.

  And now for several days they lost all clues. They beat up and downthe ranges like tired hunting-dogs, all their efforts fruitless.Little by little, panic and excitement left them. Even DeWitt realizedthat the hunt was to be a long and serious one as Porter told of thefearful chases the Apaches had led the whites, time and again. Hebegan to realize that to keep alive in the terrible region throughwhich the hunt was set he must help the others to conserve their ownand his energies. To this end they ate and slept as regularly as theycould.

  Occasionally they met other parties of searchers, but this was onlywhen they beat to the eastward toward the ranch, for most of thesearchers were now convinced that Kut-le had made toward Mexico andthey were patrolling the border. But Billy insisted that Kut-le wasmaking for some eerie that he knew and would ensconce himself there formonths, if need be, till the search was given up. Then and then onlywould he make for Mexico. And John DeWitt and Jack had come to agreewith Billy.

  "He'll keep her up in some haunt of his," said Jack, again and again,"until he's worn her into consenting to marry him. And before thathappens, if I know old Rhoda, we'll find them."

  "He's mine when we do find him, remember that," John DeWitt always saidthrough his teeth at this point in the discussion.

  It was on the twelfth day of the hunt that the sheep-herder found them.They were cinching up the packs after the noon rest when he rode up ona burro. He was dust-coated and both he and the burro were panting.

  "I've seen her! I've seen the senorita!" he shouted as he clamberedstiffly from the burro.

  The three Americans stood rigid.

  "Where? How? When?" came from three heat-cracked mouths.

  The Mexican started to answer, but his throat was raw with alkali dustand his voice was scarcely audible. DeWitt impatiently thrust acanteen into the little fellow's hands.

>   "Hurry, for heaven's sake!" he urged.

  The Mexican took a deep draught.

  "The night after you left I moved up into the peaks, intending to crossthe range to lower pastures next day. A big storm came up and I madecamp. Then an Indian in a blanket rode up to me and asked me if I wasalone. I _sabed_ him at once. 'But yes, senor,'" I answered, "'exceptfor the sheep!'"

  "But Miss Tuttle! The senorita!" shouted DeWitt.

  The Mexican glanced at the tired blue eyes, the strained face,pityingly.

  "She was well," he answered. "Be patient, senor. Then there rode upanother Indian, two squaws and what looked to be a young boy. TheIndian lifted the boy from the saddle so tenderly, senors. And it wasyour senorita! She did not look strong, yet I think the Indian istaking good care of her. They sat by the fire till the storm was over.The senorita ignored Kut-le as if he had been a dog."

  Porter clinched his teeth at this, while Jack murmured with a gleam ofsavage satisfaction in his eyes, "Old Rhoda!" But DeWitt only gnawedhis lip, with his blue eyes on the Mexican.

  "The Indian said I was to say nothing, but the senorita made him let metell about you after I said I had seen you. She--she cried withhappiness. They rode away in a little while but I followed as long asI dared to leave my sheep. They were going north. I think they werein the railroad range the night you were with me, then doubled back. Ileft my sheep the next day with the salt-boy who came up. I trampedtwenty miles to the rancho and got a burro and left word about thesenorita. Then I started on your trail. Everyone I met I told. Ithought that my news was not worth much except that the senor therewould be glad to know that the Indian is tender to his senorita."

  DeWitt turned to Porter and Newman.

  "Friends, perhaps she is being taken care of!" he said. "Perhaps thatdevil is trying to keep her health, at least. God! If nothing worsehas befallen her!"

  He stopped and drew his wrist across his forehead. Something liketears shone in Jack's eyes, and Porter coughed. John turned to theMexican and grasped the little fellow's hand.

  "My boy," he said, "you'll never regret this day's work. If you have asenorita you know what you have done for me!"

  The Mexican looked up into DeWitt's face seriously.

  "I have one. She has a dimple in her chin."

  John turned abruptly and stood staring into the desert while tearsseared his eyes. Billy hastily unpacked and gave Carlos and his burrothe best that the outfit afforded.

  "Can the salt-boy stay on with the sheep while you come with us?" askedJohn DeWitt. "I'll pay your boss for the whole flock if anything goeswrong." He wanted the keen wit of the herder on the hunt.

  The Mexican nodded eagerly.

  "I'll stay!"

  Shortly the four were riding northward across the desert. They were infairly good shape for a hard tide. Two days before, they had stoppedat Squaw Spring ranch and re-outfitted. With proper care of the horsesthey were good for three weeks away from supplies. And for two weeksnow they scoured the desert, meeting scarcely a human, finding none ofthe traces that Rhoda was so painfully dropping along her course. Thehugeness, the cruelty of the region drove the hopelessness of theirmission more and more deeply into DeWitt's brain. It seemed impossibleexcept by the merest chance to find trace of another human in a wasteso vast. It seemed to him that it was not skill but the gambler'sinstinct for luck that guided Carlos and Billy.

  They rode through open desert country one afternoon, the only mountainsdiscernible being a far purple haze along the horizon. For hours thelittle cavalcade had moved without speech. Then to the north, Porterdiscerned a dot moving toward them. Gradually under their eager eyesthe dot grew into a man who staggered as he walked. When he observedthe horsemen coming toward him he sat down and waited.

  "Jim Provenso! By the limping Piper!" cried Billy. "Thought you wasin Silver City."

  Jim was beyond useless speech. He caught the canteen which Jack swungto him and drank deeply. Then he said hoarsely:

  "I almost got away with the Tuttle girl last week!"

  Every man left his saddle as if at a word of command. Jim took anotherdrink.

  "If I catch that Injun alone I'll cut his throat!"

  "Was Miss Tuttle bad off?" gasped Porter.

  "She? Naw; she looked fine. He sassed me, though, as I won't take itfrom any man!"

  "Tell us what happened, for heaven's sake," cried DeWitt, eyingProvenso disgustedly.

  Jim told his story in detail.

  "That Injun Alkus," he ended, "he tied a rag over my eyes, tied myhands up and, say, he lost me for fair! He took all day to it. Atnight he tied me up to a tree and I stood there all night before I gotmy hands loose. I was sure lost, now, I can tell you! I struck acowman up on the range the next night. He give me some grub and acanteen and I made out pretty good till yesterday, working south allthe time. Then I got crazy with thirst and threw my canteen away.Found a spring last night again, but I'm about all in."

  "How did Miss Tuttle seem?" asked John with curious quietness. Itseemed to him the strangest thing of all that first the Mexican, thenthis coarse, tramp-like fellow, should have talked to Rhoda while hecould only wander wildly through the Hades of the desert without atrace of her camp to solace him.

  "Say, she was looking good! She thanked me and told me to tell you allto hurry."

  They gave to Provenso a burro whose pack was nearly empty, what foodand water they could spare, and he left them. They started ondejectedly. Provenso had told them where Kut-le had camped ten daysbefore.

  They could only find that spot and attempt to pick up the trail fromthere.

  "Just the same," said Billy, "it's just as well he didn't get away withMiss Rhoda. He's a tough pill, that Provenso. She'd better be withthe Injun than him!"

  "Provenso must be a bad lot," said Jack.

  "He is!" replied Billy grimly.

  The camp was made that night near a smooth-faced mesa. Before dawnthey had eaten breakfast and were mounting, when Carlos gave a lowwhistle. Every ear was strained. On the exquisite stillness of thedawn sounded a woman's voice which a man's voice answered.